Attention Whore
by VampedVixen
Summary: Sylar gets revenge on Elle for giving him the virus. Noncon, leading to dubcon.


The first thing Elle realizes upon waking up is that she can not move. Her legs are pulled taut with chains wrapped around her ankles, securing them to the bedposts at the end of the bed. Her arm are reaching towards the opposite direction. Similar chains secure her wrists to the headboard. As if that weren't enough, whoever captured her had the audacity to strip her naked, leaving her there spread eagle.

Someone is going to pay dearly for doing this to her. Someone is going to die. She is Elle Bishop, not some rookie on the company and she knows how to make people suffer. The company's been teaching her interrogation and torture tactics since she was seven years old.

"Where are you?" She screams but no one answers her call. "Come out so I can fucking kill you!"

Elle starts to raise energy in her hands, sparks flying from her outstretched palms. The door behind her head opens and she can hear someone enter the small room. They stay behind her and without being able to see them, she's unable to focus her ability.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

She knows that voice. She spent hours watching Bennet's conversations with that man when he was in the company's facility the first time. He was too sick to say much the second time he was taken in but she remembers laughing at the doctor's trying to stitch his wound shut. He wasn't worth their trouble, she told them. No one listened.

She crains her neck around, but all Elle can see from her position on the bed is the top of his forehead. The headboard is blocking too much for her to get her shot in. Damn. Every so often he moves and she can see his arm. He's holding something but she can't make out what it could be. This only increases her aggravation. "What are you talking about?"

"You're the one who stole my powers," he singsongs. "Silly girl, did you really think you would get away with it?"

"Someone had to stop you."

It was true. No one else would listen. They all thought he could be cured, he would be their secret weapon once they'd done the whole Clockwork Orange on him. Elle did very little during her teenage years except watch tv; it was all the company would allow her to do since she was deemed unfit to play in the real world. She knew the ending to most movies. Soon enough the psycho was triggered by a bit of Beethoven, or the smell of brains and power in Sylar's case.

"So, how does it feel to play the hero, Elle?" He asks, moving closer yet still out of reach. Then the water hits her, washing away all hope of escape. Sylar stands above her, hosing her down from head to toe with water so cold it makes her cry out in pain. "I bet your daddy was real proud of you."

Elle starts tearing up, though it's not his mocking or the stinging of the ice water that gets to her. It's the fact that Sylar's right. All she has ever wanted was her father's approval; she wanted him to look at her like Bennet looked at Claire.

What was the word? She can hardly put her finger on it.

Appreciative (too formal.. but the company would like it).

Happy (yes, but there was more to it..).

Proud (that's the one).

When she's sufficiently hosed down to the point where she can't use her powers anymore, Sylar removes himself from the room to shut the water off. She doesn't want to cry, not here in front of him but she can hardly help it. She's only twenty-four years old, not very much more than a child. She'd terrified. She's helpless. And she's alone.

Her father wasn't like Bennet; he didn't care about her like that. What they had was much more formal than any ordinary father and daughter team. He wouldn't be coming to her rescue. In fact, if she made it out of this alive, he would probably chide her for getting caught in the first place.

Sylar doesn't leave her alone with her thoughts for very long. "You took something from me." His hands start to unbutton his pants. He slips them off and her eyes go wide, fearing what he may do to her next. "And now I'm going to take something from you. I think it's only fair that it's something irreplaceable, something you can never get back."

She doesn't like where this conversation is headed and tried to wiggle away. The chains don't allow her to go very far. "W-what do you plan on taking?"

Sylar stands above her and places one hand on her tense thigh, opening up her legs even wider. He cocks his head, inspecting her like a specimen in one of the company's labs. "Well.. you're still a virgin, aren't you?"

She breaths and feels smaller than she can imagine. Elle's used to being strong, the one who can take everything the crazy world throws at her. Inside though, she's still a child who has never gone on a date or been on a roller coaster or lost her virginity. "God, no. Please, don't--"

Sylar ignores her as his hand travels up her thigh, until he enters her with his finger. It's rough and coarse, but it slides in so smooth she can only close her eyes and let him use her. As a virgin, she's so tight and tense that it hurts when he works up to two fingers and then three. Elle pulls at her chains but this does nothing to stop him.

He yanks his hand away again and she opens up her eyes again, hoping he might have changed his mind about the rest of his plan. Perhaps that was enough for him. It's not in him to lose interest once he's found a victim though, she'd read his file and this much she knows. She's not too surprised when he climbs onto the bed, straddling her hips.

"Sweet little Elle, so very tasty," he says as he licks each of his fingers, like he's just dipped them into the frosting of a birthday cake. He spreads her legs again, placing his tongue inside of her and tasting the fruit directly from the vine.

She's so sheltered from the world, she's never even experienced oral sex before. It's not that bad, not entirely. If he wasn't the last man on earth Elle wanted to be in bed with right now, she might even enjoy this moment. His tongue massages her clit and she shivers with a bit too much joy. Sylar peeks at her and notices the grin stretched across her face.

"Little Elle's a slut, is she?" Sylar growls, annoyed that she's taking pleasure from her punishment. With no warning, he changes position and drives his hardened cock into her hole, diving in fast to hurt her as much as possible. "How does this feel?"

She wasn't expecting how much it hurt, like pieces of her tearing away at the seems. She's sobbing now but he doesn't show any mercy or slow down. She's just a toy, one people have been playing with since she was born. While he's on top of her, Elle remembers a trick she used back when the company used to hurt her with their tests. She thinks of a place, somewhere far away. A beach. With the cutest boy she can think of, who kinda looks like Peter nowadays. And then she picks out the best outfit to wear there, something she looks powerful in and stunning and happy..

"How does it feel, Elle?!" Sylar refuses to let her dissociate from the real world. His question is more impatient this time, demanding an answer.

"It hurts. Oh, god, it hurts!"

"It always hurt the first time," he whispers in her ear. "But don't worry, the second time gets easier, especially for a slut like you. You'll be begging me for more by the third."

Through gritted teeth, she asks a question but she's not sure she wants to know the answer. "Do you plan on keeping me around for that long?"

Sylar stares at her as he finally orgasms. In his eyes, she can see the predatory animal that lies within, one that refuses to make compromises. "You're mine forever."

It's the thought of someone wanting to keep her around for that long and that dangerous air he wear around himself that brings her to her own orgasm. Elle's never experienced anything quite like it. It's like what she always imagined a roller coaster would feel like, when the riders drop off the very top of the hill, careening down at such a screamingly fast pace that the world around them seems to blur.

"You liked that, didn't you?" He says as he stands up and puts on his pants. Before he leaves, Sylar mutters his new moniker for her. "Slut."

She's sure she'll be hearing it many times from now on, at least until she finds a way to escape. Then again, as Elle's breathing returns to normal and little aftershocks are still felt within her, she wonders if escaping is really all that important. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. How long could she stay here, chained to the bed to get well fucked daily by this psycho before her father started to give a shit about her?

Elle now has enough incentive to stick around and wait while her father develops a soul.

-The End-


End file.
